


Tribes

by Overtlytextual



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: 1960s America, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ann is a wealthy baby gay, Anne Lister said queer rights, Anne goes by Freddie almost exclusively, Anne is a working class butch who owns my heart (and Ann's as well), Butch/Femme, Dehlia and Catherine aren't related in this one, F/F, Gay Pride, Stonewall Riots, Sweet Gay Love, and all the villains are the same, art student! Ann, but also acknowledging that there were fights about that, butch! Anne, butch! James, butch! John Booth, drag queen! Washington, femme! Ann, femme! Dehlia, femme! Eugenie, french exchange student! Eugenie, mechanic! Anne, more tags to come, trans! mrs. coordingly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overtlytextual/pseuds/Overtlytextual
Summary: Ann Walker never felt like she belonged much of anywhere. But standing in a crowded bar on Christopher Street during the summer of '69, she may have just found what she's been looking for.





	Tribes

**Author's Note:**

> hi all!! I couldn't stay away from our tiny beautiful baby fandom for long, and I have had this idea rolling around in my head since the very first episode. I want to take this time to thank everyone who read my first one-shot and encouraged me to keep writing-you are the reason this story is happening! I hope this one soothes your soul just as the last one did-lord knows we need it after ep5....
> 
> this is going to be a multi-chaptered fic, most likely between 7-9 chapters. I have done a fair amount of historical research on this time period, so everything should be fairly accurate, except for some things I will mention at the end of the chapter, but please don't hesitate to reach out if you notice anything else! if you'd like to learn more about this period of time and butch/femme culture, I would suggest reading stone butch blues by Leslie Feinberg!! this fic is heavily inspired by many of the things ze describes and is a wonderful queer resource!
> 
> not beta read, all mistakes are mine. all characters belong to hobo/bbc.
> 
> enjoy!!

It was springtime in the city. As the sporadic trees budded around the city and the fading sunlight warmed the paved streets, Ann felt a strange sort of connectedness with nature, a hum she had never felt buzz through her body before. Tonight was Saturday, towards the end of the school term at Barnard, and, as she looked in the mirror, Ann saw herself bloom into something new. Or rather, someone new. Perhaps it was the way her hair fell, or how her mascara turned her lashes upwards, or how her pink gingham dress hugged her curves and pushed her breasts up more than she was accustomed to. But what Ann was experiencing was deeper than any alteration to her outside appearance. She recognized the person staring back at her, while at the same time feeling as though she was a stranger to herself. This new person felt scary, but also like home, similar to the sensation Ann got right before she turned on the lights in the apartment after being away awhile; logically, she should know exactly what to expect, and yet there was always that contentious moment of uncertainty in which she is not entirely sure what she will find after she flicks the switch.

"Ann, _mon amie_ , it's almost 9 o'clock! We have to get going if we want to get there on time! _Allons-y_!

Ann was broken out of her reverie by her best friend and roommate, French exchange student Eugenie. She had really changed everything for shy, anxiety-ridden Ann, even just in their first year of living together as college freshman. She had brought her out of her shell and encouraged her to express her feelings not only in her paintings, but also with her words and actions. She invited her to consciousness raising feminist groups on Barnard's campus, where Ann had discovered that her voice, her experiences, mattered. But most of all, Eugenie had shown her what she was.

 _Femme_.

Ann could still recall hearing Eugenie's accent, smooth like sand, running over the word. She felt a strange sense of excitement as Eugenie described what it meant for herself and spoke about her lovers and past relationships. Ann felt like she was staring at a reflection of herself. She acted so confident, so sure, so _French_ about it all. All the minute details that seemed to partially separate her from all other women in her life seemed to disappear. She felt a tug of love and sisterhood towards Eugenie, a connection between friends that couldn't be found anywhere else. All of Ann's wonderings, her secret, shameful desires, short glances and furiously scribbled diary entries became condensed into a phrase that wrapped around her and nurtured her like a babe's blanket. Finally, there was language, something to hold onto, even just one word, that described who she was.

A feminine woman who loved and desired other women.

At home, femininity had almost always felt like a chore, a too-small box with not enough airholes. But here at school, her nighttime routine of preparing to go out now read more like a religious ritual. It was because she was only supplicating to herself and to her own nature. Her divine beauty belonged to no one and could not be classified, controlled, or manipulated. The sheer rush of power that came from adorning herself to her exacting specifications was heady and special, and to do so every day was to give herself the gift of freedom.

Compared to how quickly she had gravitated towards her femme-ness, Ann's process of coming to terms with her sexual identity had been a much longer journey. She remembered in particular the handsome woman who had forced her to stop lying to herself about things. Oh, when she closed her eyes she could almost reach out and touch her, even though she had no idea what that felt like. In her mind, she could see the confident, swaggering walk, the upturned brows, the eternally bright smile playing on her lips. The way she said Ann's name, the way she looked in her jeans, the way Ann could see her brain working on her face as she deduced the problem with her uncle's Cadillac. And her hands, rough and calloused but somehow impossibly gentle as she accepted Ann's glass of lemonade. She was so flustered she didn't even ask the mechanic's name. Something about her made her tongue-tied and completely incapable of acting like a normal person. The handywoman probably forgot about her as soon as she saw her; after all, she was just fifteen at the time, an awkward, more gangly version of herself. After that day, even though Ann knew she would never see the woman again, she kept looking out the kitchen window of the townhouse, hoping to catch the woman's powerful black motorcycle racing past the neighborhood, so out of place and yet completely unafraid to act as though she owned the world.

She tried to deny it, she really did. Ann danced with men at formals and proms, went on countless blind dates set up by her family, came out in society as a debutante, and was sent to school for the sole purpose of finding a Columbia graduate for a husband. Anything to repress and ignore the feelings the bubbled below the surface. But none of these activities, which society assumed were the joys of her life, gave her even a fraction of the excitement and pleasure that just one glance from that mechanic half a decade ago could provide. She had never met another person like her since, much less a man. In fact, her interactions with men had often caused her stress and unhappiness. When she was around them, it was like they were speaking a secret code that she was supposed to understand, but somehow couldn't. The only comfort her liaisons with men brought her was the relief that her aunts and uncles would cease, at least for a short time, to lecture her about how to be a proper woman and how she should go about finding a husband.

To be frank, she was still afraid of allure of the other woman. Even five years later, Ann wondered what she would say if she ever encountered another woman of that sort. When she told Eugenie about it, she said that the woman was probably a butch. Eugenie had had lovers like that back in France. She explained that a butch was another kind of gay woman who was masculine in her mannerisms and appearance. Rather like the polar opposite of how Ann was, and yet exactly the same.

The whole reason Ann was in front of her boudoir mirror in the first place was because Eugenie had a date with one such person. Ann was going with her as a chaperone and friend, simply to make sure Eugenie was safe-she had heard that the police had come and raided many bars around the Greenwich Village area, especially those which allowed gays to frequent their establishment. Although Eugenie insisted that, if necessary, her date would protect her, Ann wanted to accompany her regardless. She had to admit to herself that her reasoning wasn't entirely selfless. She longed to be in a place with others like her, and she desperately wanted to find out how to meet someone who made her feel alive again. As it was, Ann was fairly quiet and kept to herself, which made for quite a lonely life most of the time. Ann wished she could be more like Eugenie, but she was stuck with her little old self, warts and all.

However, if anyone could bring her out into the light, it would be her beautiful and outgoing friend, who always seemed to know the exact things to say to make butches pay attention to her. It was high time she experienced another dose of excitement and attraction like the one she got all those years ago. Ann wanted to be noticed and cherished and held. She was ready, and she had waited long enough to start living her life. She slipped on her best white pumps and spritzed her perfume once around her neck. Ann took a deep breath as she gazed at herself in the mirror one last time. The night was full and young and bursting with the possibilities of right now. _Okay, Annie, allons-y_! she said to herself. Eugenie poked her head into Ann's bedroom once more, clearly impatient to go meet her beau.

"Come on, Ann, it's time to go meet Prince Charming!"

The walk to the bar was passed quickly, with Eugenie chatting excitedly about meeting Jane, or John, as her friends called her. She recounted how they had met in line at the bookstore, and how John had offered to carry her packages for her, held the door, and acted all together very chivalrously-a clear sign that she was courting her. Once John had walked her all the way to their front door, she very gently and politely asked to see her again the next weekend at an establishment her and her friends liked to frequent. Ann couldn't remember the last time she had seen her friend so animated, and she found herself giggling with glee along with Eugenie, almost as though she was on her way to her own clandestine lover's meeting. As they turned onto Christopher Street, Ann could already see a sizable crowd of people smoking cigarettes, chatting, and waiting to get into the bar. She looked up at the glowing sign, which read "The Stonewall Inn". She felt her hand being tugged insistently by Eugenie, who pulled her into the warm darkness.

At the door stood a largish...man? Woman? Ann couldn't quite tell. The person's face was made up dramatically in some version of women's makeup, and they were wearing a large, caftan-like garment that draped over sloping shoulders. Eugenie had told her about men who liked to wear women's clothing-drag queens, they were called. She certainly looked like a queen, graceful and fierce, guarding the door with a great sense of importance.

"Password?" she intoned with a feminine drawl. Eugenie, for the first time this evening, seemed flustered.

"Oh, um..., I... my date didn't tell me I'd need one of those. I'm here looking for John, John Booth, if that's helpful?" The queen's face relaxed into a smile.

"My my my, you're the femme our Johnnie couldn't stop talking about! Eugenie, is it?" She nodded. "You're every bit as beautiful as she said you were! I'm Samantha. And who's this lovely flower?"

It took a few seconds for Ann to realize she was being referred to. "Oh! I'm Ann, I'm just a friend. But I... well, I would also like to...come in as well, if that's alright?"

"Well, as long as you're not a pig or a hetero. You don't look like a cop, and you aren't a hetero...are you?" She said in a joking manner. No one had ever asked Ann that question so directly. It had taking Eugenie months of careful probing and a complete openness about her own life to get her to speak honestly with her about the subject.

Ann took a deep exhale. "No, I'm not. Not heterosexual, I mean. I prefer...I like other women." Samantha's already wide smile deepened.

"Then darling, that means you're in! Go ahead girls, Johnnie'll be at the bar waiting for you, Eugenie. Just make sure you sign your name in the book! And Ann, I'm not quite sure what's waiting for you in there, but I sure do hope you find it."

 

Both girls smiled at the drag queen and walked inside. As soon as they entered the building, they were overwhelmed by the acrid smell of cheap beer, cologne, and smoke. Ann couldn't believe what she was seeing. There was raucous jazz music being played loudly from the band onstage. It was like her deepest fantasy, suddenly played out right in front of her eyes. Men dancing with men, women dancing with women, friends greeting each other with a gleeful ease. The bar was crowded, and Ann was much closer to common strangers than she usually preferred. Most of the women in the bar turned to look at Ann and Eugenie as they passed through; Ann was unaccustomed to all the attention. Despite this, somehow everyone in the bar seemed safe and familiar. Everyone seemed to know each other. She followed Eugenie towards a group of tables near the back. And that's when she saw her.

It was _her_! The mechanic. Ann stood frozen at the spot she was standing. This couldn't possibly be real. She looked different now, maybe slightly more mature, but the biggest change by far was her hair. It looked like she had gone to a barbershop and got herself a man's haircut. The way it emphasized her jaw and flipped to rest atop her head made Ann's mouth water. She was dressed in trousers and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and had a cigar hanging out of her mouth. She was laughing along with another group of people who looked and dressed similarly to her. One of them looked up and smiled widely at the two girls approaching. "Eugenie! You made it!" The woman, who was wearing a full men's suit, took off her hat and kissed Eugenie's hand softly in greeting. She handed her the bouquet of wildflowers she had been holding.

"It's lovely to see you again, John. These are gorgeous."

"They reminded me of you."

Eugenie seemed to blush redder than a tomato. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and Ann could see how John had convinced her usually coy and savvy friend to go out with her after just one meeting. And, by the looks of it, John was just as smitten with her. Ann felt slightly awkward witnessing the two interact, like she was intruding on a private scene. John glanced over Eugenie's shoulder at her, and Eugenie spun around quickly and suddenly.

"How terribly rude of me! John, this is my best friend Ann. She just came to make sure I didn't get myself into too much trouble."

John twinkled down at her politely and shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you Ann. Any friend of Eugenie's is a friend of mine. And I brought you here so I could get you into some trouble, my dear," he said, winking flirtatiously.

Eugenie threw back her head and laughed as John brought them over to the table. The table where the mechanic was sitting. John evidently knew her. Ann couldn't believe her good fortune and thanked God profusely that Eugenie had dragged her along. When the girls arrived with John, the butches stood up to greet them. James, another one of John's friends shook her hand, as did her date, Dehlia. Finally, she turned to greet the person who had consumed her thoughts since she first clapped eyes on her all those years ago.

"Hi, I'm Freddie. Pleased to meet you."

She reached out her hand and grasped Ann's firmly in her own as she introduced herself. It was exactly as she had remembered it. She must have looked nervous, because Freddie put on a gentle, honeyed smile and helped her into her seat. When Ann still hadn't ceased her staring, Freddie spoke once again.

"I believe I may have been mistaken when we were introduced. It's just...you look so familiar to me. I feel like I've seen you somewhere. Have we met before?" Freddie asked, looking at her appraisingly.

After a few more seconds of fighting her swollen tongue, Ann replied. "Yes, truth be told I can't believe you still recall it... you came to our apartment to fix my uncle's Cadillac, I think, it was around five years ago or so," Ann said slowly, not wanting to reveal that she had played those day's events over and over in her mind for years following.

Freddie's face lit up. "Ah, yes, I do remember! You gave me a class of lemonade, as I recall," Freddie exclaimed, clearly reliving the memory. "You were so young back then, you've really grown up since I've last laid eyes on you. You're very beautiful."

Ann blushed profusely as she felt Freddie's gaze upon her, looking at her not as a girl, but as a woman, an attractive woman. She had never been called beautiful by another woman before, and the sensation made her feel dizzy. "Thank you," Ann said, biting her lip as she replied. "I like your haircut, it really suits you."

"Ah, you like it?" Freddie asked as she ran her fingers through her hair, seemingly out of habit. "I'm glad, I cut it myself. Couldn't take the long hair anymore, it got too in the way when I was working. And besides, I think it makes me look rather debonair and exciting", Ann said conspiratorially, adding in a wriggle of her eyebrows for good measure.

"I'd have to agree," Ann shyly admitted with a smile, meeting Freddie's gaze. At this, she seemed to get flustered. Was Freddie nervous around her?

"So, what's a woman like you doing in a place like this?"

"What do you mean?" Ann asked.

"You know what I mean. I saw that SoHo apartment you were living in when I came out to fix the car, and everyone knows the Walkers have some of the oldest money in town. You're rich, you're stunning, you're a goddamn debutante, and there's a million things this city has to offer you, and yet here you are, in this dark, crummy bar. Why?"

"Well, out of all the other places I've been in this city, this is the only one where I can be me."

"You like women?"

"Yes." Ann said quietly.

"So, you're a femme?"

"I am," Ann said with a smile.

Freddie arched her eyebrows hopefully and stepped closer to Ann, putting her hands at her waist. "Well then, can I buy you a drink?" Freddie asked. Ann moved closer into Freddie's embrace.

"I'd like that."

After that, the rest of the bar, however interesting and new, seemed to disappear. There was only Freddie, sweet and attentive but also smart and just the right amount of cocky for it to be attractive and not off-putting. Ann discovered that Freddie's God-given name was also Anne and agreed with a laugh that she'd better keep calling her by her nickname. After a while, Ann could feel herself relaxing, and once she did, she realized how at ease she felt in Freddie's presence. Their conversation varied throughout the evening, with Ann speaking about her latest art piece, while Freddie described taking on her new role as owner of her own mechanic's shop. She was a natural leader who provided a place for some of the other butches to earn a decent living without having to put on a skirt. Freddie was also very business savvy and understood how to make money. In addition to being a mechanic, on the side, she had taught herself anatomy and physiology, just to enhance her own understanding of herself and the world around her. She just knew so many things and had been to so many places-Ann found herself fascinated and impressed on more than one occasion. The best part of all of it was her passion, her zest for life and all it had to offer, despite her demoted position in society as a open lesbian. She was such an individual, but her differences just seemed so natural and authentic. However, even with all of her experiences and all she had to offer, she seemed so interested in everything Ann had to say. Her eyes lit up when she spoke about children, or her classes, or her professors. She was sympathetic when Ann talked about her family and their heteronormative expectations of her and why it was so hard for her to say "the l-word" when she described herself. She couldn't remember the last time she had such a frank and stimulating opportunity to share her inner thoughts. True, Eugenie was a wonderful friend and confidant, but because she lived with her and was so close to her, sometimes initiating a deeper conversation out of the blue was difficult. Outside of her, Ann didn't really get close to many people. It was just too painful when they rejected her for being too introverted or not interested in the ways of society at large. But with Freddie she could be open and honest, and it felt wonderfully liberating. It was almost 1 o'clock in the morning at this point. Eugenie and John were locked in a passionate embrace in the corner of the bar and had been for some time. Freddie caught her looking at them curiously, which made her blush. Ann and Freddie gazed at each other for a long moment. Ann thought that Freddie was going to ask her to kiss her, something that she was afraid to want but did.

"Would you like to dance?" Freddie gestured to the couples gently swaying on the dance floor. The band had stopped playing the frenetic, high energy music shortly before, and had since struck up a sweet, slow melody that bled into the dark room. The idea of being physically closer to Freddie was simply irresistible.

"I would love to."

Freddie offered her arm out to Ann and lead her to the front, where the band was set up. It was a quiet corner, and although they had been alone all night together, this setting felt especially intimate and private. Her hands went to her waist, and Ann's hands rested at the nape of her neck. She let her fingers run over the short hair there and felt Freddie shiver. She pulled Ann's body close to hers as they swayed in time to the music, which draped over them like a blanket. Ann could feel Freddie's heartbeat against her mostly bare chest, slow and steady. Their foreheads were now resting against one another, and Ann sensed Freddie's eyes tracing her lips, which she had been biting and licking nervously all night. She could feel something hard at the place where her and Freddie's stomachs met, pressing at her belly, which was fluttering uncontrollably. All of a sudden, she felt warm and fluid, like melting butter. Her tongue darted out to wet her mouth once again, and she heard Freddie sharply inhale.

"You know it drives me absolutely crazy when you do that, don't you?" Freddie asked, sounding frustrated.

"No, I didn't know. I'm sorry, I'll stop."

Freddie laughed. "You're very funny. Don't stop. I like it when you drive me crazy. God, Ann, I like you so very much. I feel as though we've been in each other's lives forever, and yet there's still so much to explore, so much to uncover about you. If I'm overstepping the mark, please, tell me off-the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable."  
Ann stayed silent for a moment; truth be told, she was so enamored by the romantic nature of Freddie's usually tactile words that she couldn't have protested even if she wanted to. "You don't make me uncomfortable, quite the opposite actually. I feel very safe with you. I like you. I like your honest nature. I like showing you the real me."

Freddie smiled her beautiful, enigmatic smile once again. "I'm so thrilled to hear that, you have no idea. I've been enchanted with you since you walked into this bar," Freddie admitted, almost shyly, an emotion Ann had yet to see in her time with the other woman. Ann figured it was about time to confess what she had been holding in since seeing Freddie for the first time after all those years.

"You know, there was a reason I remembered you from when you came to fix my uncle's car. I don't have your elephant's memory for detail, or that diary you were talking about, but...you were the first woman I was ever attracted to. You made me realize that...that I was a lesbian," Ann finished quietly, feeling embarrassed and wishing that she had said nothing. She tried to pull away, but Freddie held onto her, placing a finger under her chin and lifting up her reddening face to meet her eyes.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. You were young, just a child. And besides, you didn't need to tell me that you were attracted to me when we first met. I could tell," Freddie finished, looking rather proud. Ann flushed with humiliation, but there was also some part of her that was pleased that Freddie could read her so easily. She wasn't naturally one to open up, but she wanted to be truthful with Freddie. The overwhelming rightness of being in her presence made Ann feel almost desperate to find a way to stay there. Out of the corner of her eye, Ann noticed that Eugenie had her coat on and was yawning as she spoke with John. The bartender was wiping down the island with a damp rag, and most of the patrons had left, save for some drag queens and the homeless youth who were spending the night. It was clear that Cinderella's ball was coming to an end, but Ann didn't plan on keeping her Prince Charming waiting on tenterhooks, or worse-losing a shoe in the process.

Freddie seemed to have a similar sense that their time together was fleeting and pulled Ann in close once more. "When can I see you again?" Freddie asked, making no attempt to hide her eagerness.

Ann mentally ran through the next weeks schedule and signed sadly. "I have some final projects due for my classes, so...next weekend? I'm sorry I can't see you until then, it's just..."

"No, don't apologize. I have a busy week at work anyway. I'd like to meet here again if possible-I really loved dancing with you, and if it means you'll look anything like you'll do tonight, well them, I'm all for it," Freddie said with a teasing smile.

"Duly noted-I'm glad that you liked it," Ann said shyly.

"Oh, I more than just liked it," Freddie declared, holding Ann's face to hers. "It makes me...hmm...excited. It makes me want to kiss you." Ann looked into Freddie's gorgeous, swirling, lustful eyes.

"What's stopping you?"

Ann felt both of Freddie's hands wrap around her face and saw her eyes close as she moved her mouth closer to hers. "I've never done this before. Kissed a woman, I mean," Ann said nervously, hoping she hadn't ruined the moment.

Freddie simply smiled. "Not to worry, darling. I have," whispered Freddie as she closed the gap between them. Ann just closed her eyes and waited. All of a sudden, she felt Freddie's mouth on hers. It was warm, and wet, so welcoming and inviting but also strong and insistent. After a few seconds, she relaxed into the kiss and began to kiss back, albeit rather clumsily. After what seemed like an eternity, Freddie pulled away to regard her. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Freddie asked. Ann, for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight, was lost for words. She felt like she was floating on a cloud high above the Earth.

All she could do was pull Freddie in once again, to taste more of her essence.

"You're a natural already, sweetheart," commented Freddie, looking impressed and pleased with herself. It was now clear that Eugenie was exhausted and waiting for the two to finally part for the night. As much as Ann didn't want to leave, she took pity on her friend and began to say goodbye.

"I'll see you next Saturday, won't I?" Ann asked hopefully.

"As long as I can pick you up on my motorcycle," Freddie said.

"I'd love to see what riding on your motorcycle is like," Ann said earnestly, walking the two of them towards the entrance.

"Well, goodbye for now," Freddie said wistfully, giving her another kiss on her cheek.

"Goodbye Freddie," Anne said, looking behind her at the butch as she walked out the door. She stepped out into the cool night air and felt completely refreshed, as if previously she had been walking around with a sheet thrown over her and it had been abruptly ripped off. She was admittedly only half listening as Eugenie spoke about her date with John. She mentioned that both of them couldn't help but notice the sparks between Freddie and Ann, and that John had said she hadn't seen Freddie this smitten in a long while. Ann just smiled, completely wrapped up in her thoughts. They rode up to their apartment on the third floor in companionable silence and bid each other goodnight. Ann sat back down at her mirror, still in disbelief that only a few hours ago, she had gotten ready here, completely unaware of what was to come. As she crawled into her bed and shut off the lights, the last thing Ann remembered before she drifted off to sleep was Freddie's face and smile and kind eyes, an image she had fallen asleep to before if she was being honest. But this time, it was more than a distant memory. This time, it was something real.

**Author's Note:**

> ok guys, what did we think? your comments give me life and I love to hear from you-what worked? what didn't? I should have the next chapter up within the next week! if you want to follow me on Tumblr @nationalgiographicc, I shit post about this show a lot-I know we all constantly need to talk about our OTP and this show and gah...
> 
> 1\. Allons-y means "let's go" in French  
> Mon amie mean "friend"
> 
> 2\. my New York City geography isn't great, sorry lol
> 
> 3\. gentleman jack is a very white show. with the exception of Anne Lister, all the characters are super gender conformist. I tried to add some gender variance by switching up some people's identities, but this is still a very white fic unfortunately. I want to take this time to appreciate some ppl such as Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, two trans women of color who were huge parts of the riots and the activism afterwards. without them and dozens like them, LGBTQ+ rights would not be where they were today. my fic may not explicitly include their voices, but that perspective is always present in my mind, please know that. 
> 
> 4\. in this fic, Ann is 19 and Freddie is 27. I shortened their age gap a little bit so it wouldn't be too freaky just bc Ann is pretty young, but both are consenting adults and age gaps, esp at this time in history, were fairly common. 
> 
> 5\. if you'd like to see some of my aesthetic inspirations for this fic, check out my pinterest board here!  
> https://pin.it/wgluc4j66qrrtn  
> for the record, the first two pictures on the board is sort of my image for what Ann and Freddie are wearing in this chapter. if you guys like it, I'll keep updating it as we go along!
> 
> until next time...


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